


First Time for Everything

by kelios



Category: Supernatural, Wincest - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Marijuana Use, Shotgunning, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:39:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelios/pseuds/kelios





	First Time for Everything

Title: First Time for Everything  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Sam/Dean  
Warnings: Wincest, marijuana use, shotgunning  
Written for this [Masquerade](http://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/) prompt: _ For all his rebellious attitude at school, Dean never tried smoking weed. It was Sam smoking with his friends, Sam who know what he's doing. He takes Dean through it for the first time. Dean unravels happily in his brother's arms. _

_ extra awesome for banter, kissing at a motel room alone or in the Impala. It'd be lovely if it only happened around the last few years, cause there's a sweetness to doing something like this for the first time after all they've been through, something light in all the hard seriousness, but it'd be beautiful also if it happens when they were teens. _

_ Please, no non con or manipulation. Perhaps Sam suggests it because Dean has been so worried lately - it's not an evil plot. _

 

 

“Wait. You mean never, never? Not even once?”

Sam can’t keep the surprise out of his voice. He knows Dean must have had plenty of opportunities growing up—he was just as likely to hang with the stoners and other outcasts in high school as the ‘cool’ kids, especially after he hit sixteen. But here’s his brother, admitting he never lit up once, and Sam is definitely going to tease him about it forever once they get the Mark off his arm and they can both relax for real.

“Whatever, Sam. It’s not a big deal, okay?” There’s an adorable flush creeping over Dean’s cheeks, and Sam can’t help grinning at his big brother’s embarrassment.

“Well, it kind of is,” Sam teases. “But don’t worry, I can show you how it’s done.”

Dean just rolls his eyes. “Glad to hear your time in college wasn’t a total waste,” he mutters, and it doesn’t sting the way it used to. Sam knows now it’s just a defense mechanism and he lets it roll over him with a shrug and pushes Dean down onto the threadbare comforter.

“Where’d you even get this stuff?” Dean asks suspiciously as Sam deftly turns the green shreds and paper into a couple of passable joints. “Is it safe?”

Normally Sam would have rolled his eyes at the idea of anything in their lives being ‘safe’. But he understands. Dean and the Mark are bad enough, Dean and the Mark on PCP or LSD or really anything would be a thousand times worse.

“Got it from Charlie,” Sam says matter of factly. “She grows it herself, so I think we’re good.” He puts one of the joints down on the nightstand and fumbles in his pocket for a lighter.

“Since it’s your first time—“ Sam can’t help the smirk that takes over his face just saying that—“I’ll help you out, okay?” He pushes a couple of pillows between Dean and the headboard and swings a leg over him, straddling his lap.

Dean returns his smirk wholeheartedly. “I can get on board with this,” he says, leering as he runs his hands up Sam’s thighs to frame the soft bulge already beginning to show there.

Sam lights the joint and inhales, savoring the sweet smoke. Dean’s watching him avidly through the haze, and Sam leans forward to press his mouth to Dean’s slightly parted lips.

Dean gets the idea immediately, as Sam knew he would—he inhales deeply as Sam opens his mouth and lets the smoke curl out between them. He groans slightly as Sam’s tongue flicks over his lips, chasing both sensations as Sam pulls back for another hit.  
Sam takes another drag and immediately seals his mouth over Dean’s again, this time letting his weight sink into his brother. They both gasp at the friction, Dean’s hands sliding around to cup Sam’s ass and pull him even closer.

Dean’s head falls back onto the pillow, eyes closed as the drug rushes through him. “Why the hell didn’t we do this before?” he asks, voice slightly slurred.

“I have no idea,” Sam admits, grinning down at his brother. Dean gets a hand in Sam’s hair and drags him down for a real kiss this time, tongues sliding and tangling languidly as Sam slowly rocks against him, every nerve ending alight with a heady mixture of drug and Dean.

They break apart for another hit, passing the smoke back and forth as the white cylinder gets smaller and smaller. Sam can feel the tension draining out of Dean’s body as he sinks into the cushions underneath Sam’s weight, relaxing in a way Sam hasn’t felt in far too long. They finish the first joint, but Dean stops Sam as he leans back for another one.

“Wait,"he says, tugging at the hem of Sam’s tshirt. "I want to see you." The heat in Dean's eyes says he wants to do a lot more than look and Sam shivers at the thought of those rough fingers on his bare skin. He pulls the shirt over his head immediately and tosses it aside. Dean’s hands are all over him immediately, calloused fingers tracing over scars and rubbing over the tight buds of his nipples. It feels like every nerve is a direct line to his dick, and he groans into Dean’s mouth, hands scrabbling to get under Dean’s tshirt, aching for the warmth of bare skin. Dean pushes his hands away and pulls off his own shirt before reaching around Sam for the other joint.

“More,” he orders, then promptly distracts Sam by latching onto the sweet spot under Sam’s jaw, seemingly unconcerned by the burning ember so close to his skin. Sam fumbles as Dean sucks in time with the pulse in Sam’s dick, even the slight sting of the bruise erased by the liquid heat running through his veins. He finally gets a mouthful of smoke and pulls Dean back to push it into his slick, open mouth. Dean swallows Sam’s moans with the smoke, dragging Sam down hard against him as the hit rushes through them both and _fuck._ They are so doing this again.

They pass the joint back and forth between kisses, Dean confident enough now to take his own hits. Sam can’t help but marvel at how beautiful his brother looks—eyes blown wide, lips kissed red and swollen, every freckle standing out in sharp relief against skin that feels like raw silk under Sam’s fingers. He gets lost in them for awhile, doesn’t know how long he spends trying to kiss every single one, but he hasn’t even made it past Dean’s collarbone before Dean is arching underneath him to shove his jeans down around his thighs, a steady flood of filth and love falling from his lips to match the devotion falling from Sam’s.

Together they get Sam’s jeans open and oh God oh fuck the feel of Dean’s hand stroking him hard and fast is like a miracle, when he wraps his hand around both of them it’s a revelation. Sam can’t even count the number of times they’ve done this but it’s never felt quite like this before. He’s not even kissing Dean anymore, just pressing their lips together messily, moans and words smeared between them as Dean works them both and Sam holds on to his shoulders. Dean tenses, burying his face in Sam’s neck, biting down as Sam feels the first splash on his chest, hot and wet. It drags a shout out of him along with his own release, shoving hard into Dean’s hand as his brother shudders through the aftershocks underneath him.

They come down slow, Sam draped over Dean as Dean gently strokes his hair and back. It’s soothing, relaxing, Dean’s slow and even breaths lulling Sam even more. The constant thrum of tension Sam had grown used to feeling in Dean is still gone, easing the constant ache in Sam’s chest just a little, even though he knows this calm can’t last.

Still, maybe there’s a room for a little hope after all. 


End file.
